


☕ Satan Cafe ☕

by abigaiher



Category: Food Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-04
Updated: 2019-04-15
Packaged: 2019-11-12 01:06:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18000884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abigaiher/pseuds/abigaiher
Summary: A mini-series following the daily lives of the Food Souls working at the Satan Cafe and the various strange souls that find their way to the secluded Gloriville cafe.





	1. ❀ Blooming Flowers ❀

_Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out._

Black Tea leveled her revolver to the target ninety meters away and she squinted, the bullseye coming into sharp focus. She bit down on her bottom lip and pulled the trigger back.

**BANG!**

A silver bullet shot out of the barrel as Black Tea absorbed the shot's recoil. Her crimson eyes shone as a smirk appeared on her pale face. The target was punctured and a beautiful five-petalled flower began to bloom where the bullet passed through.

"Honestly, are you even shocked whenever you hit a bullseye anymore?"

Black Tea rolls her eyes and checks the number of bullets left. She sighs and in a blink of the eye, she reflexively pushes the cylinder back into the revolver and turns around, aiming the gun at the head of a slender, blonde man.

“I don’t know Coffee, let’s find out together, shall we?”

Coffee smirks as his steely blue eyes focus on the end of the revolver, a brave move for a man facing sure death. Instead of fleeing in fright like any sane person, Coffee walks towards Black Tea and slowly lowers her gun gently with his hand. “Hmm, let’s save that bet for another date, my dear. Right now, we need you back in the cafe.” Coffee pointedly tilts his head to the side, his eyes flickering up past the dense wall of tall trees in the direction of the Satan Cafe. “Come on.”

Coffee releases his grip on the revolver and turns around, the leaves of the forest floor crunching under his step. Black Tea looked on with amazement at the retreating Food Soul, always perplexed by his odd behaviors and the stupid amount of courage and dumb luck. The Devil’s Drink truly could stand up to everything. Even Black Tea had to hand it to him.

Black Tea trudges after Coffee through the dense Gloriville forest that she has come to know and love, tucking her twin revolvers back into their holsters. A narrow, worn down path led her through the thick forestry back into a secluded clearing, surrounded by the towering oak trees, their branches swaying slowly in tempo with the soft breeze. In the very center of the small field stood a small and quaint looking cafe, very out of place in this forest. But what else would one come to expect from a business run by Food Souls?

Coffee glanced back towards Black Tea, making sure she was still there. He nodded and entered the cafe through its front door, Black Tea soon followed. As Black Tea pulled on the wooden door, the scents of rich black coffee and sweet sugary cakes immediately wafted over her and welcomed her back home.

“Bonjour, lovely Black Tea. How are you doing this fine day?” A short and hyper young Food Soul peeked out from underneath a tall and crisp hat, a wide grin on his face. His goofy demeanor contrasted radically the shining lines of medals that gleamed on his wrinkle-free military uniform.

Black Tea rolls her eyes and walks past, not sparing a glance in his direction. “Pastel isn’t going to make you any more cakes today Napoleon. So stop asking.”

“Oh come on Black Tea. Don’t you see?” Napoleon Cake leans back on his chair and releases an exaggerated sigh. “I am on the verge of death and the only cure for me are those sweets your group is hoarding there in the back.”

“I’ll consider it.”

“Oh merci, wise and beautifu-”

“I’ve considered it for a good five seconds and the answer is no.”

“Curses. You really did fool me there Miss Black Tea. You clever, clev- OW.”

Black Tea turns around and sees a petite woman behind a disheveled Napoleon Cake, his hat lopsided on his head. The face that was usually indifferent to her surroundings was now scrunched up in frustration.

The woman narrowed her stern grey eyes as she harshly scolds the young man. “If you insist on coming every day to harass our only pastry chef, you could at least help out in the chores.”

“But Miss Milk,” Napoleon protested, “I already help out in the commissions you receive!”

**THWACK!**

Milk landed another smack to the back of Napoleon’s head, causing the hat to topple off the tangled mess that was his hair. “Every time you do a commission for us, the pastry chef and a third of our pastries suddenly go missing!”

At that remark, the snickers of the eavesdropping Food Souls behind the bar counter made their way to Black Tea’s ears. Unfortunately for them, their snickers also made their way to the ears of the very frustrated Milk. Her anger found itself a new target as she marched over to the bar past Black Tea and reached over the counter, pulling up two Food Souls by their ears.

The one on the left was Coffee, the manager of the cafe. He was technically Milk’s superior in the cafe, but just one look at their relationship and anyone could tell that even he feared her rare fits of anger. The man on the right was a handsome young man who could easily tower over Milk, but her strong grip on his ear kept him hunched over, yelping like a small child.

“I didn’t do anything Milk! Coffee was the one who was laughing!”

“Did your Master Attendant never teach you that eavesdropping is rude, Chocolate? Don’t you think that I’ve forgotten about you harassing our manager either.”

“I wouldn’t call it harassme-”

“I would call it harassment.”

“Coffee, sweetie, you’re just making things worse for both of us.”

“Well, you can’t actually expect me to agree with you. You come here whenever you have nothing to do just to bother and annoy me. I would very much call tha- OW.”

Both of the grown Food Souls begin to cringe as Milk pulls down further their ears. “Both of you better go back into the kitchen and by the time I make my way back there those dishes better be clean, is that understood?”

Chocolate furrows his eyebrows. “But, Milk, I don’t even wor- AH!”

Milk glares at Chocolate. “I said, is that understood?” Chocolate smiled and gave two thumbs up. “Yes, ma’am.”

Milk finally released their ears and huffed, staring them down as they quickly retreated back into the kitchen. Black Tea smiled and tilted her head to the side. “Have you ever noticed that your ears turn pink when you get mad?”


	2. 🍪 Jelly Tarts 🍪

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Napoleon proposes a foolish bet to Black Tea and Pastel de Nata that involves his love with jelly tarts.

Milk tensed up and her ears turned a notable bright red. She crossed her slender arms across her chest and huffed. “Hmph. Don’t make me get onto you too. You should think about helping out more than just shooting those flimsy targets of yours every hour of the day."

Black Tea brushes off a few specks of dust from the folds of the cotton fabric that made up her large skirt. “Why, Miss Milk, I thought you enjoyed watching me practice?”

Milk adjusted her little bow and fixed the strands of hair that had come loose. “Watching you do impossible feats with ease can be a spectacle, yes. However, I wish you would help out a bit more as a waitress.”

Black Tea scoffed and headed back behind the coffee bar. “I refuse to wear that idiotic uniform. Coffee is a fool if he expects me to serve customers in that ridiculous outfit.”

“It's not that bad…”

“Milk, that dress is all frills and ruffles, and it barely covers the top of my thighs.”

“You look nice in it though.”

Napoleon Cake nodded from his place at the table. “Would I be bold to say that you look quite dashing in the cafe uniform, Miss Black Tea.”

A quiet little snort escaped Black Tea’s mouth. “Dashing? That uniform is a sin to all that is considered fashion in Tierra. If you find it so  _ dashing _ , why don’t you wear it yourself?”

Napoleon Cake sighed and rested his chin on his gloved hand. “I would love to wear it, but alas, my dear Pastel would not appreciate it. Not only that, but your customers wouldn’t be able to handle the utter sexiness that oozes off of me.”

“Sexiness my ass.”

As soon as Napoleon heard the familiar rich tenor voice ring from back in the kitchen, he scrambled off his chair and onto a stool by the bar. “Pastel! About time you came out! Do you have any sweets you could spare me today?”

Pastel de Nata emerged from the back kitchen with a tray full of freshly baked pastries, small shortbread tarts filled with smooth and natural fruit jams, the soft looking mocha cream puffs covered in delectable chocolate glaze, and that day's special, thin slices of a glistening tres leches cake, topped with a beautiful swirl of fluffy whipped cream. As he gently placed the tray on the back counter, a small puff of artisan flour that had been resting on the pastries rose up in a small white cloud, settling down on the countertop.

Pastel de Nata tucked a loose strand of his hair back behind his ear, as he opened the pastry display case. As his steady, coarse hands began to carefully place the various treats into the glass case, he began to speak in his almost monotone voice. “Napoleon, I told you already. You already ate two jelly tarts today, and we agreed after the last commission that two is the daily limit.”

Napoleon pouted as he gazed longingly at the mocha cream puffs resting peacefully in perfect rows. “I could have a cheat day once in a while. I mean, look at B-52. B-52 isn’t allowed to burn anything, but when he does, Brownie doesn’t get mad at him.”

The three other Food Souls pause and stare in disbelief in reaction to Napoleon’s reasoning. 

After a few beats, Milk finally broke the silence. “That is the most idiotic thing I have heard in a while.” She shook her head, exasperated. “ You really are something, young man.” Milk went around Napoleon and approached the kitchen doors. “I can’t stay around stupidity for long, or I’ll begin to lose brain cells. It’d be better if I go and check on the other set of children before they break a plate.”

With that remark, Milk pushes open the doors and goes back into the kitchen. Napoleon Cake sighs. “She just doesn’t get my genius mind.”

Pastel de Nata placed the last slice of tres leches cake and brushed the excess flour off the counter. “Napoleon. One thing is not being able to control your magical powers in times of stress and another is having a sugar addiction.”

Black Tea crossed her arms as she nodded in agreement. “It’s real miracle you can even shoot straight with the amount  of sugar you consume daily.”

“Oh, I’m fine. My hands don’t shake when I’m hyper. I just get really loud.”

Pastel’s right eyebrow rose. “Are you saying we’ve never seen you in a non-hyper state?”

“Nope!”

Black Tea and Pastel de Nata’s eyes met, each in disbelief. 

Pastel shut the display case and he chuckled. “I guess that settles it. We won’t give you any more treats here.”

Napoleon gasped and shot up from his chair. “No! You wouldn’t dare!”

Black Tea approached Napoleon and patted his gloved hand. “Look at it as an intervention. We definitely care about your well-being.”

“And it’s definitely not us being selfish and wanting to interact with a less robust Napoleon.”

Napoleon hung his head low and sighed. “Alas, it has come to this, hasn’t it.”

Black Tea nodded. “The first step is coming to terms with the fact you have an addiction.”

The French Food Soul raised his head with a grin on his face. “No! The exact opposite!” He pointed at both Black Tea and Pastel de Nata as he proudly proclaimed. “I don't have an addiction! And to prove it, I will go an entire week without sweets! And when that week is up, you will have to raise my sweets limit to three!”

And with that one-sided gamble, Napoleon exited the cafe, leaving behind a stunned Black Tea and Pastel de Nata.

“Did- did he just bet us that he’d go sober?”

“How long do you think he’ll go Pastel?”

“Five hours max.”

“That’s generous of you.”

“That man can do impossible feats when he puts his mind to it. But this time, he might have an actual challenge.”

“Hmph. That young man lacks every ounce of logic needed to survive. It's a miracle he is even alive this late in the game.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading this week's chapter! ♡
> 
> ♡ If you wish to see a certain Food Soul pairing in future chapters, comment them down below! ♡
> 
> If you're interested in my socials they are as follows:  
> Instagram: _abibis_arte_  
> Twitter: AbibisArte  
> Tumblr: food-fantasy-shitposts


	3. 📚 Fairy Tales 📚

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A small moment between Brownie and B-52.

“Hmm…” Wide steely blue eyes shone as the young, well-dressed Food Souls tapped his nose as he thoughtfully looked over the long row of leather clad books, each of their spines showing great wear, but not a single tear could be found on the well cared for and loved books. His gaze finally landed on a pristine blue book, the border of its spine decorated with small golden vines twisting along the length of the leather, and it all surrounded a title written out in careful calligraphy. 

“There you are,” Brownie reached out and pulled the thick book out of its snug place in the shelf. “The Aloof Sisters’ Fairy Tale Collection Vol. 1. I do believe he’d enjoy this set of stories.” With a slight smile and a bounce in his step, the Food Soul left the empty grand library, the echo of his steps fading out as he walked out and down the hall.

He quickly made his way down to a more simply decorated part of the home and into a small living room where a young man with a leather jacket and a torn pair of black jeans dozed peacefully on the long couch. Loose tufts of his soft, platinum hair had settled over his face, covering his closed eyes. Brownie tapped the top of B-52’s head with the book and sat on the couch next to him.

“Hey, don’t just go falling asleep on me. I wasn’t gone that long, was I?”

B-52 groaned and rubbed his eyes, his blacked out eyes blinking rapidly, adjusting to the bright light coming through the large window. He pushed back his hair and glanced over at Brownie. “W-what?”

Brownie’s finger traveled down the page slowly, and hummed quietly, quickly skimming down the various titles of the various fairy tales featured.in the volume. “You fell asleep while I went to the library to look for the story I was telling you about. The one about the princess and a beast who fall in love.”

B-52 looked up at the ceiling, his eyebrows scrunched up in thought. “I still have yet to comprehend the moral of that story. Why would one write such a love story? A beast and a human wouldn’t be logical for either side of the relationship.”

Brownie shook his head and laughed. “The moral of the story isn’t necessary surrounding the logic around such a relationship, but more so the fact that the beautiful girl looked past the beast’s visual appearance and fell in love with his kindness and personality. Besides, at the end, the beast turns back into a handsome prince thanks to the love of the kind princess.”

“Love is a social construct.”

Brownie sighed and couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the stubborn wall ahead of him. “Bee, you need to have an open mind if you insist on learning about the various Tierra cultures.”

“By reading stories based on fantasy?”

Brownie pushed the novel into the hands of B-52 as a small smile tugged on his lips. “It’s not just stories of fantasy. Underneath the writings, there’s always another story being told. Don’t base your judgments on another’s appearance. Tell the truth and never cheat. Treat others as you wish to be treated. It’s those themes that are interwoven in these tales that will give a glimpse into human nature.”

The Fool Soul’s eyes settled on the book in his hands and B-52 sighs in resignation. “Fine, I’ll read the book. But I cannot promise you I’ll make it all the way through.”

“One story will be enough for me. It’ll be a sign of your stubborn mentality against reading is finally fading away.”

“I’m not against reading in general. Just reading to absorb unnecessary information. However, if you insist on this, I will give it a shot Brownie.”

Brownie’s soft laugh rung in the air. “I’m glad you take my opinions into consideration Bee.” He stands and reflexively tugged on the cuff of his left sleeve. “You should get settled for a long read, and in the meantime, I will get things ready for dinner tonight.”

B-52 cocked his head to the side, a clear face of confusion etched on his expression. “Dinner, what for?”

Brownie sighed and pushed back a stray tuft of hair, his ears twitching in slight annoyance. “Napoleon wishes to invite the neighbors over for dinner again. Of course, he won’t come back until tonight, leaving all the work in my hands. According to him, he was going to get the sweets for the party tonight.”

“I could help you know.”

“ _Bee._ ”

“Right. You don’t want any fires starting on accident again.”

 “Just sit here and read. I’ll let you know when the neighbors are here.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading this week's chapter! ♡
> 
> ♡ If you wish to see a certain Food Soul pairing in future chapters, comment them down below! ♡
> 
> If you're interested in my socials they are as follows:  
> Instagram: _abibis_arte_  
> Twitter: AbibisArte  
> Tumblr: food-fantasy-shitposts


End file.
